The Sun. — London, England, 1838-08-05 00:00:00

V' Wl . ' 7reo r 0 NATIONAL LOAN FUND DEFERRED ANNUITIES. (From the Edinburgh Chronicle.)' We have ever been warm advocates of economy, forethought, and independence on the part of all ranks, Particularly of our respectable working class. inOf the population of thi s country, fully three.fourths, cluding workmen and their wives and children, be long to this class ; and such being their numbers (not to speak of their importance in an industrious point of view, and their moral worth), we hesitate not to say that no country can be regarded as happy or pros. Perous, Where the working man is poor and depressed. But, as generally speaking, every man is the architect of his own fortune, and as it depends, not on others but on himself, whether he have a fair and liberal share of the comforts of life, or be sunk in a state of mi. a erY and degradation, we have often urged on him the 4 , ace ssitY of frugality an d th e di gn ity of independence. We hold it as a principle which should never be lost Sight of, that it is the duty of every man to support h imself, not only during his days of youth, of health, and vigour, but at the same time to save as much as will maintain him during sickness and old age, a nd, perhaps, to leave a little capital (however trifling it be) to his children after him. On this principle it is, that we have ever advocated, and still advocate the i nstitution of Savings Banks, and all other institutions that have a similar tendency, namely; the promotion of saving and independence, and consequently (as we have often shown), of virtue and happiness. Crime and infelicity prevail, not among the respectable working classes, but among classes far inferior to them—among those classes who are in the lowest stage of want and destitution, and who have fallen so low, that they cannot sink lower, Suppose lam a workman, a per son who gains his daily bread by his daily labour, yet if I can support myself and my family, by my own unaided industry—particularly, if I can save my six. pence or shilling a week, and not only keep poverty at arm's-length, but accumulate a little fund to help me in the evil day, if ever it come—if I can do this, though I be otherwise a very humble labourer, the chances arc a hundred to one, that I shall be a happy and virtuous man, respected by all, and enjoying, in an eminent degree, the confidence of my employer. I shall thus be enabled to educate my children, to take a seat in church, and, generally speaking, to do justice to eys family. I shall feel that I have a stake in so ciety, and that I have neither lived nor laboured in vain. Independence, particularly when that indepen. deneels the result of my own honourable exertions, r uns the best chance of producing happiness. Abject Poverty, absolute physical destitution, is invariably the Parent of misery, and not unfrequently of vice and of crime. Su ch being o ur pr i nc iples--and we regard them as incontro vertible—we have always rejoiced in every in stitution that has a tendency to promote industry and frugality, and to cherish a spirit of independence, on the Lart of our in va l uable working classes. The National ( oan ,(La" Fund (whi c h we see advert i sed i n our pa p er o f d •) seems to possess that character in an eminent ee, and we have no doubt that it will prove pecu ;! Y s eful. That institution can boast of a capital ° half a milli on a much larger guarantee than is necessary Indeed it will prove a we believe that, from the beginning, td profitable commercial speculation; and o such fund is necessary to command the cons. Whici of the public. It meets every contingency to the human life can be supposed liable ; and meets lull in a manner as direct and effbctual as the consti. CO nof the Society is original. Thus you can en. your life on the moat advantageous terms ; but in 71e,You may from any circumstance, w i sh i t, you may ert the policy at any t i me into a payment i n cash fer a r new p o licy--or an annuity either immediate or de t Among other liberal conditions, we may men tionetila You may, at any time, borrow two-thirds qf liarll Previous payments, and the amount ,of any de. bonus. The conditions are altogether most b eral entr The premium is unusually low : there is no Y " tar 'neY• A policy if it has been in force seven is not forfeited by suicide; two-thirds of pay. Wo.on lapsed p o li c i es are returnable at death ; and ethic t hirds of th e entire profits are annually divided I the i nsured. We refer to the Advertisement, h ti eu , 's clearly drawn up, for more minute par. ' of 7rs• But we cannot h e lp a d ver ti ng t o th e s cheme .Derferred Annuities, which is equally original and antag eoua. These annuities cover every contin encY they serve as a fund for sickness, want of er f-a—Pl o yment, old age, or as a prov i s i on f o r your 41 _ 11 Y. Thus, if at the age of 20 you contribute ;ne shilling a week to the National Loan Fund, suit may receive, at the age of 65, either an an ➢ of 47/. 16 s. 6d ., or, at your opt i on , In 3941. T Is. Ca sh, or a policy of, 4661., payable to your heirs or assignees at your death. But this is not all. If ;2 4i so wish it, you can at any time withdraw, or. bor.. 'cisy two.thirds of your previous payment; and this It can do without its being regarded as a favour. i s your r i g h t. It i s t h e c ondition on which you Purch asedW a Deferred Annuity; and if you die before '"e time that the annuity was fixed to commence, Your heirs are entitl&l to two-thirds of all the pay reents you have made. It is thus evident that, by bee m ! ai ing a member of the National Loan Fund, your m -- " e Y is not locked up, but is available, to the extent of two-thirds of your payments at any time, and under any circumstances, that y uu may wish it. Nothing can be imagined more liberal than this. No thinl r e c can be im agined to giv e a greater i mpu l se t o th e se of the saving principle. Almost every man can save his sixpence or shilling week ; and by means of this saving, and by joining the Association in ques. tion, he may most directly, and without the fear of risk, achieve his i ndependence, or leave a capital (greater small, as th e case maj be) to his family, or both re may be gained. When we recommend this scheme of Deferred Annuities to the working man, 'le must at the same time say, that it Is equally advan tageous to persqns of a higher rank. Indeed, we have avail themselves of the benefits it is calculated to emi tter. s We are glad th a t a b ranc h o f th e C ompany i s ea ablished in this city, and that it is under such an excellent manager —our ingenious townsman, Mr. -• Jameson, W. 5.,. being Agent and Secretary W th e Local B oar d . W e b eg aga i n to call particular attention to the Advertisement. Si nce the ab ove was in types, we observe that ' the tsiiiss ocia tion have obt a i ne d an A ct o f P ar li ament for f e , i f Co mpany, and th at t h e Bill was rea d a thi r d t i mer la Othe Lords on Tuesday. Thus the Association stands u the firmest and most secure basis. Nay the putty 4to advantage of its provisions. LE 28 .JUIN. Salta au regne qui commence ! La joie anime tousles yeux ; Et lea dour chants de resperance En concert montent vers les cieux. Rai du ciel, borate Souveraine, Qui veilles sur l'hurnanite, Du people anglais sauve la keine 1 Tu Sauveras la Ebert:6 1 I- 34 es cris de bonheur se retentissent Aux voutes du temple des loix, Et les fleurs aux hurlers s'unissent l'ourorner le pal a i s d es R o i s . 0 toi 1 dont la grace tempare Le front empreint de majeste, Regne heureuse sur cette terra Que feconde la liberte 1 Jeune Reine, ange tutelaire, Sois confiante en l'avenir ; Les Rois out tent de bi n a aire, Et taut de maux a p.evenit Sots jalouse de ta puissance, Tent que sa saints autcriU, Verser a sur un peuple immense Les bienfaits de la liberte En paix l'Europe en fin respire, Et les en"v46.3 de ses Rois, Pour saluer ton jeune empire, Sont z tous accourus a ta voia, 113 rediront d •la patrie, Que, sous tan sceptre respect, I,a loi ce , ne. rt reconeilie Le pouvoir et la libertO ! Fiero Angleterre, noble France, le repos du genre lonnain AfIA - misscr votre alliance. Grand s peuple s, serrez vous la main ! Chaeu n t?ut ses jours de victoire ; Oubliez—la rivalite Qu'entre vous souleva la gloire ; Se3ez smurs pir la liherte Le Colonel A. N A UDET, • Aide-de-camp du Alarcehal Soult. 00 6 _- , • ELL N INGTO AND SOULT.—The Quoti dienn e institut es a comparison between the Mili- I tar t' career of Soult and of the Doke of Wellington, "d Maintains that the comparison is in favour of Sault It was, however, in the second rank that the 11Iarshal distinguished hirnseS, and not as Commander -11-Chier dr i'rincip a L For instance, at Fleurus he assisted the victory of Jourdan—at Stockach he Itloretivered his retreat —at Genes be was associated in the y of Massena—and at Austerlitz, Jena, Eylau, litirgoa, and Cormina, he plwerl tidy ' contributed to the $4 . eeess of TheNians ofiluonaparte. Edt when be ear tT. 0, attempted to carry, fils plans into execution, t ' 4 the of the defeat of the reai-guard of' -5 ,, 134 ke of Wellington at the bridge of Arzobispo, there is really no remarkable succesloto be recorded 5. gained by the Marshal Soult.6, AtsOporto 'he was l'Uchriseil, and lost in his retreat on Galicia his artil ."cY and his baggage. At Albuera he was defeated by er...., . 2, :-'o,o, When his victory appeared certain. At —"uiri. Iron, and Orthez all his combinations failed, k Ilci he was qefeated by the English Generals anti 4nnY. At Toulouse, he has the honour of the combat, aecording to. some, but, according to all, he lost the 1 41 4 of battle. He took a part in 20 victories, but ''' () WY liaised one. Now then, compare this with the career Of the Duke of Wellington. At Virniera the kingdom of Portugal was delivered from a tilde i " c avion. ' At Oporto it was preserved a second 7. 44 °- At Arapites tlie gates of Madrid were opened consequence to the English army. At Zubiri, Iron, &e., the keys of the French frontiers were, so t i? NP°4l 's delivered into the hands of Wellington. At "rt6z he secured La Gnienne, At Toulouse he E d ° ef t ea 7: l , o " l " of Languedoc. And at Waterloo the " the Duke SaPolcen still further raised the reputation The lo ad , Stafford s hi re i ronmasters have art singethentt for' stopping their works, and their l 'last-furnaces, o n the Stindav, so as to all ow th e i r vi....u."lnen v those religious privileges q ileges Which they gh t never to have been deprived. OP' Y t 1 1 a ble 1 11$. 1 age 1 1 IY ;11 of non" MEETING OF WALLACE AND BRUCE. FROM WALLACE," A TRAGEDY, BY MURDO YOUNG. SCENE—CARRON RIVER. (Eder NV ALLAcE musing, followed by BRUCE.) WALLAtE.—The day is lost thrinigh Chinniing, hut the cause OF Freedom must prevail.—ls that the Bruce? BRucE.—Wilt thou not stay ? Behold, on Carron's bank I sheathe the sword—which were it never drawn We should have lesS to answer.-0 my country WALLACE.—This was your country ; but it is not now For traitor children she disowns, and weeps.. What mourns the Bruce? BRUCE.-- I mourn fur Scotland's tears, And widow'd state. I mourn to see her sons Stand up in war against a powerful king, Whose arm is victory, and mandate law. Oh, sheathe the sword, and let her live in peace ! WALLACE.—AiId die itr bondage !—Traitor feel your chains. (Going away.) Bauct.—Depart not yet. stern - patriot. I—Art thou' nr l d WALLacE.Yes, when I see your abject degradation. ' You cannot dream wh'dt. Freedom's sword Ail do, • When Caledonia% spirit draWs it forth. BRUCE.—It has been drawn in vain. Beheld her flow • With blasted fields, and starving, hnuseless children— WALLACE.—Thank your degenerate nature for that boon. , Are you not Bailors spirit from the Tower, Assuming Bruee's'shaPe with serpent guile ? BRUCE.—I atn,not . . WALLACE.— '• Then you are not Bruce. There was a Bruce would scorn to look on you! Proud as the eagle—and as wildly. free. But you are lamed and cagedinglorieus bird'. BRUCE.—Art thou a king ?— , or wouliest be one? WALLACE.— No : neither. But Bruce, were you•a man, you Would be king. 13 aucE.—You have designs upon the crowd ? WALLACE._ • BRUCE. —You bear the symbols of authority ? WALLACE".—For the last time. This night I lay them down. C lA, ci iio m df e bl , iyowtie Bruce!yosuptiroainttdi ofe death or k ii; t li l v‘ ie lci m ltgo u r3ii p: o a d s , ours.by might, Think y ou t h at He who made yon . beauteous orb, Just.rising to behold us i —and yon stalls That watch o'er Freedom in his hallow'd sleep,:- . Think you that He who stamp'd our spirit free 'Tis false. In his own image, and then bless'd the work, • 'Will not be pleas'd to bear the patriot's prayer, And nerve his arm with dread Jehovah's might ? L A n n o a k m in ur t f li n e ur r s iv g e l r a , d ßruce,—it e freely ar.tb e fl p o la w y s iul breeze 1 1., : o at k no io ur y 'd oti o r f his I will not mock yon,—tell tne,--ts it free ? b i o ts s o f m r" n d o o w .m • n t p s i o r n i t g' t here I Biwc.E.—.ltwonhl be, Wallace, but the fearful danger. VALi.AcE.---The Coward heart that calculates disaster Can never dare adventure's stormy sea ; Nor spread the sail of hope, when danger aeeps, And catch the breeze of opportunity. Hs will not mount the wings of smiling morn, But doubting, wait, till 'evening frown—too late. Oh Bruce, how fallen from Caledonian virtue, That sees no danger where her spirit calls! She has no king—but one that mocks the name. She has not nobles—as they us'd to be— The monarch's image and the people's glory. They crouch before the despot's spurning froWn, And hug their chains—forgetting they are men. for peasantry alone are noble—they • Abandon all, aid sternly rush to battle. They cannot bear to see the land they love Di'sgrac'd by traitors—nor profan'd by si tve3. YOu say, I'm wild ;—so is the eagle wild, To find her nest assaulted.—Wh a t is Edward ? Would you ask bread of faufne ?—from the wolf Solicit mercy when beneath his paw ? I was not born to fawn—but serve my country. • Her cause is sacred.—lt behoves trienot • . , 'to speak of self. I leave it to my actions. Lain.nut clue!, though you call me so.' I drew the sword in tierce Oppression's face, And ,will: not sheathe it while a slave remains. . . It has drunk deep, indeed, of sad revenge, But then it spared the widow and her babes • I wip'd the tear of anguish from their cheek, And felt a grateful sunshine in my soul, That whispered—mercy was supreme in heaven.' But when the tyrant came across my path,- ' • The sunshine vaniSli'd—and my soul greW darL— A Spirit inurmur'd—'tis a sin to spark f ..) t. • NY arm was strengthen'd by a secret power,. While Caledonia's wrongs rusli'd on my heart, And nerv'd my - sword to madness. Bruce, farewell (Exit.) BitucE.—Yet, Wallace, stay hear till , morning break, Fur Freedom's song was ne'er so wildly sweet. (Going.) THE 5U74 9 LONDON, SiTSTDAY, AUGUST 5, 1838, •,~ , CHRISTOPHER IN HIS CAVE. (From Blackwood's Md - ga zine for August.) •,‘ One of those heavenly days that cannot dip !" So saith Words- worth, while " his heart rejoiced iniCature's joy," as saith Burns— and in these few syllables you feel how happy at the time were both poets. But not happier than you and We have often been and are now, though poets we may not be truly called, except according to the Sense in which ad human beings are poets who love dearly their mother earth. And are you sure you' understand the feeling in Wordsworth's beautiful line? Is it that the day itself is too divine to die, and that the sun will never bring hiaiself to set on it; or that the memory of' it must needs be immortal? • Alas 1 How many heavenly days " seeming immortal in their depth of rest" have died and been forgotten ! Treacherous and *la grateful i s our memory even of bliss that overflowed our being aslig ht our habi tat i on . Our spirit's deepeg intercommunications with Nature, has no pl ace in her records—blanks are there that ought to have been painted with imperishable imagery, and steeped in sentiment fresh as the mornin g ; pensatio n— f or who can bear to behold the l i ght o f bliss re : arising f the rom on life's gold en bill s . Yet' there is mercy in this dia . past On th e gh ast li er crloom of present Misery? The phan toms that kill not come when ;e call on them to com fort us, are too often at our side when in out anguish we could almost p ra y that the y might be re'-buried in oblivion: Such hauntings as theSC are not as . rviwors, for et if they were v i s i onary—t h ey c o me a nd go like forms and shapes still em' -sued with lif e. Sha ll we v a i n l y s t re tch out our arms to embrace • hold t h em . fast entrench or as vainly reek to en ench ourselves by thoughts of thi s world against their visitation? The sent in its sicknr.ss knows not whether it be the duty of hive to res i g n itself to itirliff.. rence or t o des p air. Shall it enjoy life, they being dead? Shall the slt ' t u e na y y, and let the sunbeams settle on their heads as they Used to d o a little While, walk in othe r c om p anionsh ip ' O ut into —or cover them with dust and ashes, and show to those in Heaven that love for them is now to be expressed by remorse and penitence ? Christ o ph er i n his Cave! and he makes;' We. assure you, a ver y pretty h erm i t. Our hear d i s n ot so long as that goat's hanging on , : t;p a. rsu.'hu streetst bless are it, not - 1 " cliff. In Christian countries, Recluses shave, and aro attenti ve to tneir t o il et. W e et e n wear no t spectacles', for we haye eagle t o enjoy the h aze our decaying' eyeiig b s ht gives to all olsieets in 'Nature, n r envy y of the streams w e l ove , whOse flowings'are in the soul, Earth - sic k ? Nay—filial sh a ll we he to ;the last, 'awl bless her as she takes' us back into liter b,, suni. Life -sick ?. Oh! -nay it not, for Gorl is 'goal. andgrit.f 'gracious ; s , k and sorr ow conseerat,s din p.lth of fading acid titled flowers—vet that the se ch a nnels them ter ever (Haigent. W or ld. 'some among them, 0 Wo ! and bliss is me ! hi-ighter so help us Hea ven than ever—that leadeth to the grave ' . And where is our Cave? Hash—for We must hot " prate of its w here 3 bouts"—were we to do so it would dissolve.. But this much we may reveal—it is in the Highlands. That is A wide word • and will not break the spell. Thointerior.is cool in these the Dog-days . —nor would it be otherwise if Sirius himself were panting at its mouth. Yet perfectly dry—though one wonders how without mois ture of some kind or other the moss roof and walls, in their infinite varieties of colouring, can be so freshly beautiful. 'Tis but some four paces wide—some sir lung —end the key-stone of the arch little higiter than our heads—the roof at no place beyond touch of the long nail or claw on our Middle finger. In a niche facihg the light we are reposing on a couch covered with the furs of fox, wild -cat, and otter —a root-wreathed table, with slate-slab fair as any marble, we ever and anon-3-leaning on our elbow—keep writing away at—as now—so liloquizing " penhae sussurru"—of which the whole wide world will be listening delighted, in a week or so—for sound travels slowly through such a solitude—to the echo. Friend of our soul I Would thou wort here—for the first time in thy life to hear silence. What 1 you arc eyeing that other table in shadow. That brightest of crystal would seem empty to an inexperienced eye—to y - mrs full to the stopper—of Glenlivet. They who placed it there were far from supposing that we were likely to imbibe the dimidium of a gal lon—but 'tis an old saving superstition of the mountains iirzt to place before a solitary man a vessel in which spirits are, yet fill it not, is fital. Ay—wheaten bread of whitest grain—though grown in the regions of heather. ,No need of the Po for Parmesan. The mea dows here overflow with milk as with honey. Field-strawberrici redden the rocks, anti these basket,•fulls by fairy hand's were ga thered ere a dew-drop had of itself evanished—thoogh 'tis a wonder, even to ourselves.. where can have grownstbose glorious grapes, pale and purpl e , in, piled-up clusters—all for Christopher in his Cave— the Sirdanapalus that he is—yet abstemious as that old Roman at his Turnip, Feast. • A Library, too, we declare, and well selected, for there is the f 4te of Maga—these six vols . are manifestly Nexon's edition of Word swort h— t h ere is no mistaking Pickering's Snaltspeare by Camp bell —and here, on the table before us, Milton, a mighty mass of ore from the gold minep, and beside hith—an Album. In their own handwriting' p Igo aft,r p ige of poetry by the great poets and the good Creations of the pencil tOo—landscapes belonging to all the loveliest lands on earth and the most ma,gnificent—by'arnateurs vvho are artists indeed—and hy famous artists prto leave some relic of their genius in the Boak of lteanty, kid here by Beauty's hands, to charm in his solitude an old man's eye, ! • Neither of • these prejudices, but esuecially the formrr can pass for vcry testable, when considered in a stiictly heialdric view. 1 h.t who'c science of gmrealogicat accuracy is derived from the eiiildreo et Israel, whtse individual Camilles indulged in a hope that thel ro.niscd Messiah might be bon) front their stock ; a Dore aullienticated.poligrue hi earm emsequehtly (me of the peculiar features of the Jewish polity; suet a qualification was deemed ab.oiot,ly oe,essary ta all candidates tor ottice.i or power at :t1 hdiif t y. The strictest l'r(lrls were requited troll all about to enter iii,) the priesthood, the faVoored profe,soll usol,r a Ideroc,acy. 7che "Sepner Toledoth, ' ler Book of I: •neratiomg, was rigidly aoPcAled to—even a'ri. the g• c.3t,,t mitto., I ealamiti.,, when the ma,s both of public and private thicum:iits must hive pprisll,l. • This omesid y orance.try eit• tended to at Clidiek.—Spanial Cie.,‘•.;lo:;u awl Ileraldry.—Quai . tvily Review. ANECDOTE OF NAPOLEON AND M. BAOUR, THE DRAMATIST. The second representation of Omasis tout place at St. Cloud, on the 14th of September, 1806, and produced a profound sensation : the tears of Josephine decided the hardest hearts to weep. When the performance was over, Napoleon sent for the author. Search was made for him in vain at the theatre, for he had remained at Paris. Next day, an aide de-Camp brought him a letter, in which he was apprised that he would be received at St. Cloud, at eight in the morning of the 16th of September I have the exact date, as the reader will observe. M. de Lormian waited upon the at the appointed hour. " Good day, Monsieur le Barde," gaid Na poleon, who by this title alluded to the poems of Ossian, which M. Lormian had imitated with so much taste and felicity; "it seems ,you write dramatic pieces 7 I saw your play last night and sent for you: why were you not at the performance ?" " Sire, because I was not invited." This frank reply seemed not to displease Napoleon, who thus proceeded:-- " I have seen your tragedy, which is no tra gedy ; a useless amour—a ridiculous conspiracy —no knowledge of the places—have you been in Egypt?" " No, Sire." " So it appears. Was it you who gave direc tions for the dresses?" " I trusted that part of the business to Talmo." " Telma has made a mistake. Instead of the collar, the bracelets, and the Egyptian robe, which Joseph should wear, he appeared on the stage in the dress of a Nero. Your Rhamnes is a poor creature ; when a man con spires, though but on the stage, he ought to succeed or not to meddle with the matter . . . Mademoiselle Mars's blue shawl, suited her extremely well. As she plays in comedy only, why did you give her the part of your Ben jamin ?" " I judged that she alone possesses the quali ties required for that part." " You did quite right . . . Your Simeon ought to be but a chief of the desert ; you have made him a sort of amphibious personage. . . . He ought to be brought upon the stage with the brother whom he has sold. . . The piece wants that situation. 'Tis a difficult point I know, but that's your business Your Jacob is a blubberer . . . and Joseph a phrase maker." All these remarks thrown out without 'sequel or connection, after the Emperor's manner, began to annoy the poor author, who asked himself if he had been sent for to be made a fool of ? Napoleon, who secretly enjoyed the vexation of M. Baour Lormian, to whose Gas con vanity, he was no stranger, tormented hint some time longer with his criticisms. All at once be changed his language and his tone Well, Monsieur le Bark". said he, " I have worried you enough. *Your tragedy is not a tragedy, that is indisputable; but it displays extraordinary beauties : the exposure, the scene with Benjamin, the conclusion of the fourth act, and above all, the fifth, are superb: the style in particular is wonderful; it is Ciniarosa's music. This is an admirable beginning, but you must continue. . . . Are you well off ?" " No, Sire." " These poets never have a sou." " Your Majesty will no doubt be pleased to make a liar of the proverb." Here Napoleon smiled, and added:— " Work away, I will provide for you. Your Ossian is admirable; I know Arthur's song by heart. That work has sold well : publish a splendid edition ; I will contribute to it." Napoleon then rose from table; for be breakfasted during this conversation, at which the Duke of Frioul and Count du Lucay, Pre fect of the Palace, were present. He took M. de Lormian aside to the embrasure of a window and said to him : i‘ When you write another' play, come and read it to me ; lam very fond of tragedy. I shall give you a provisional pension of two thousand crowns out of my privy pure; by and-by I will do more—that depends on you. —Adieu, and without ill-will." On the second day after this audience, Ai. de Lormian received from Napoleon a gold snuff-box with his cypher, containing eight thousand francs in banknotes. For the rest, the author profited by the advice given him by Napoleon, and added a scene between O►nasis and Simeon; this scene is, beyond dispute, tha most effective, in a dramatic point of view, in the play. When Marshal Soult was at Man chester, a working man in a cotton manufactory there wished exceedingly to shake hands with the Marshal. His wish was readily gratified, when be explained his motive. He had been in the Rifle Brigade all the Peninsular war, and had fired at Soult THIRTY but failed. At Toulouse, he fired twenty times at the Marshal, with the same result. The Marshal a,;aiu shook him by the hand, saying that he was a good soldier, and had done his best to serve his country, MARSHAL SOULT AND CAPTAIN Maxey.--(From a Correspoudent.)—At an interview which Marshal Soult granted to Captain Manby, on Friday last, for the purpose of requesting his Excel lency to take charge of a memorial to his Bovereikn the King of the French, to sanction and oncourage an international negotiation with the maritime nations of the world, and enter into a comprehensive treaty of mutual alliances for the preservation of life, and the protection of property (to the rightful owner) on whatever shore the misfoitune of shipwreck may happen ; also providing warm clothing and temporary comfort to the sailor after he is saved from shipwreck, and assisting him to his home to whatever country he may belong; to which the Marshal was thus pleased to express himself—" I am most happy to take by the hand the man whose name is so universally honoured for his noble mid generous ph ilanthrophy, and to assure him . that on my return to Paris I will immediately attend to his request, and press the subject on his Mi. esty's earnest attention." Her Majesty, at the levee on the 13th, knighted ➢lajor William Lloyd, for military services, particularly for his gallantry at the battle of Seeta buldea, in India, where he was severely wounded. The Earl of Sandwich will shortly lead to the Hymeneal altar Lady Mary Paget, one of the unmarried daughters of the Marquis of Anglesey, and sister of the Earl of 'Oxbridge, Lord Alfred Paget, &c. ORIENTAL LITERATURE. -- The first inducement to the study of Oriental literature is the extreme beauty of the Arabic language, which is incomparably the most beautiful and perfect of all the dialects. It is Hebrew in its highest state of advancement, losing nothing of its massive strength, but exchanging its venerable simplicity for the dimen sions and ornaments of a graceful and classic order. It is hardly possible to conceive anything more elabe rated in the science of_ grammar than the powers of Arabic formation and the endless variety of expression which it offers to the scrupulous ex.aetness - of the philsopher no less than to the glowing images of tl..e poet; and Sanscrit aisne—that puzzle of Orientalists, that unsolved problem of modern inqiiirers, who still doubt where and whence it sprung, and whetlier it ever were a spoken langurge at eel—Sanseeit nlonc, can vie with Arabic in its exquisite and artificial structure. And this very perfection of the langone in its capabilities is perhaps the very reason of its failure in its actual achievea eats. The genius of its best and greatest writers seems to have glen so fascinated with the vehicle of. expression, that the expression itself of their nob est thoughts becotne dwarfed, and often puerile, so that their poetry is too perpetually interrupted by conceit, and their oratory degenerates into rhetoric. Still let it not be ima gined that their poetry is nothing but conceit, rend that the master passions of the soul are not touched with a master's hand, and in tones that would corn ' mand the breathless admiration even of an English audience. It is too common to imagine that tne only characteristic of their poetry is a certain pretti , Hess- of thought,and flowery: elegance of expression. Nerve, and the -deepest energy of feeling are its genuine characteristics ; and while tiny are deficient in the sustained efforts of the epic 'and the drama, a thousand gems might be selected of striking and im passioned thought, clothed ID in.cu line and commviti. ingbeauty.—From Prefe.tsur Beloit eon's introductory Lecture at Cambridge 0,, (Mental Literatai•e. • • - ' EA 11 're is scarcely' RTH ENWA • ' beautiful a any y itsmganrandlacu gradual r i e m a p • r h o i v e e h in i s . a , r t i . h t i . l e a r e t s . : i t i sc ee „ contemplate i o o.,g4 th ato r n earthenware, presenting, as it dOe i s ing us polishctil life. cwheiitnhistthrey ts the several Iwo cunion o comforts asicidienocrcnaamnden ornament, is cies of etaerrishh:rziadr aa I c i , ) :rt i a n i v il e i s ii t g il4a a t s in u g 'ell their most ap. ro p r ia‘e combinat i ons, as the respective degrees of teat which the several composition, require. Art has studied the designs of autir.uity, anti I:rut:wed Irons them vessels even more exquisite in form tlnai the models by which they have been augee E ta,j. ware has Leers provhied in such gradattuis of quality as to suit every station, from the highest Li thr, lowest. It is to be tens in ev , r e coutitty, almoat in every house, through the whole extent tit Atli, ricer, in many parts of Asia, and in iteast of the i:OUilLr'eli Europe. At home it has suiwiseaed tloalesa yes, ly vessels of pewter aid of Weed,ai,u by its ~ 11, 1,4 k been lil - 0411t within the n peoiaiNiaaae keepers. Etirteeti built iasostailcea originalty sa ue, the tahrication has produced latiunr of such various clasaes, fled created si.tll ui sUl:11 ,adaua SIC. 'greet., that nearly the whole value o the aolioal pro duce may be considered as au ten.ition mar i• our mass tit* Ilitt1011:11 WLa.I 11. 'II, Al) iiiii nnP 4iilliv were eltnbited in every owellingis sufficient evidenceof the vase augmentation of the naanuraewie, %leen is also dernoindrated by the rapid increase of the peiasilacem In the districts where the Lu.Wcles 044 9 4 blibhett. —Quarterty ;",~: